


A Mother's Trials

by DiaryofaWriter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, How Loki was adopted, Maternal love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 11:30:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiaryofaWriter/pseuds/DiaryofaWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frigga, wife of Odin and mother to Thor, has been able to put up with a great deal in her life as Queen of Asgard and wife of the Allfather.  But when Odin brings a small Jotun infant to her, asking that she tend to him, she is ready to put her foot down.  How long will that last?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bringing Loki Home

**Author's Note:**

> Frigga was one of my favorite female characters in _Thor_ \--Sif, Jane and Darcy were fairly awesome too--and so I've written several short pieces about Frigga. This story will focus on the early years of Loki's life and how she did her best to follow Odin's orders to not tell Loki who he is, and raise him right. We'll see how well it goes.

" _No._ "

Frigga's voice was firm as she looked into her husband's one remaining eye. Her own pale eyes flashing dangerously, her arms crossed in a defiant gesture and her usually well-tended-to curls wild about her face. It was moments like this, when she was defying his will, that Odin realized just how lovely his wife still was. True, they were no longer young--even by their own reckoning versus that of mortals--but her features were still so finely formed, and there was a regal strength to her person that seemed to radiate from her very center.

Smiling wryly to himself, Odin sighed in exasperation at his wife's simple answer. In his arms, keening in the matter of all tired infants, was the child he had rescued from the frozen wastelands of Jotunheim. The babe needed to be tended to, and soon, but Frigga refused.

"My answer is _no_ , Allfather," she repeated firmly. "I'll not take in the bastard child of the beast we have been battling against for centuries."

"Frigga, my Queen," Odin replied calmly, still cradling the tiny infant in his arms. "The child is too young and vulnerable. He had nothing to do with the war."

"His blood is tainted by being sired by _Laufey_ , Odin!"

Her voice rang out through the hall as she shouted her defiance of the Allfather, causing the tiny baby to wail loudly in protest. The sound seemed to give Frigga more reason to lower her voice than any order Odin might have given her. After all, she was a mother, and it was only a few years since her own baby boy was a tiny infant. Twisting her mouth into a tight frown, she forced herself to look away from the baby that her husband cradled in his arms.

"At least _look_ at the child, Frigga," Odin murmured in his most soothing tone. "Look; he is a healthy and fine baby, no matter his size."

All beings had a weakness. As King of Asgard, Odin was well aware of these weaknesses in his subjects; even his wife. Frigga, as distant and as cold as she was attempting to be in this moment, could not say no to a baby in need of her nurturing care. He noticed the subtle twitch of her fingers with a slight smirk of satisfaction.

"Just hold the baby for one moment, my Queen," Odin pressed. "And then, if you continue to refuse to care for him, I will give him to the care of another."

She was beginning to break to his cajoling. Finally, with a huff of indignation, Frigga held her arms out for the baby and scooped up the tiny infant from out of Odin's arms. 

The first thing that Frigga made note of was how _small_ the baby was. Usually, Frost Giant infants were much larger, but this child must have been born too early. That would explain why he was still so small. He could not be more than a few days old, perhaps not even that.

Her second observation was his appearance. The child seemed to have shapeshifting tendencies, as he no longer had the typical blue skin of a Frost Giant. However, being so young, the glamour was not entirely perfect. His eyes still glowed an unholy red. Just seeing those red eyes made Frigga long to hate the child in her arms. He was the son of her husband's enemy; that made him an enemy.

And yet…

The small child stared at her with intelligent eyes that slowly faded from red to a brilliant green. He no longer cried or made any noise, simply looking up at her. After several long moments, tiny arms reached up to touch Frigga's face. Dimpled, chilly fingers softly batted at her cheek, one hand taking hold of a dangling curl and refusing to let go.

In that moment, the ice that Frigga had tried to place around her heart, to ensure that she did not feel anything for this child of her enemy, thawed away. Odin observed this with more than a touch of smugness.

"What will you call the child?" he asked smoothly.

Frigga considered this for several moments before kissing the baby's forehead with a soft murmur. "Loki."


	2. The Meeting of Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor meets his new brother.

There were many things that Frigga was used to dealing with, and a tired, hungry baby was very high on that list. The tiny Jotun baby had managed to settle down somewhat when she took him from Odin, but it was clear from his whimpers that the poor thing had not been fed for far too long. Odin had mentioned that the child had been abandoned in the cold desolation of Jotunheim, which had only made Frigga all the more determined to do the best she could for this infant.

"Don't look at me like that," Frigga murmured to the small child in her arms as he stared up at her unblinkingly. "It is not my fault that you are so adorable."

Loki seemed to realize he was being both complimented and scolded at the same time, as his now-green eyes sparkled as he wriggled in her arms. He was still cool to the touch, though not nearly so much as he had been in his Jotun form, and a shiver went through his tiny frame. Smiling softly at him, she sat down with the infant, wrapping a blanket tightly around him and waiting for the wet-nurse to arrive.

It had been nearly a year since she had been nursing Thor, something which was not supposed to be done by a queen. However, given the fact that Frigga was associated with motherhood on Midgard, it was something that many of her subjects could overlook. Unfortunately it also meant that she could not nurse Loki herself, much as she would like to.

"Mama?" a small voice at her feet said, drawing Frigga's attention away from the infant in her arms. Her small son, Thor, stood at her feet, his blue eyes wide and curious as he stuck his thumb in his mouth and stared at the bundle in Frigga's arms. "Who's dat, Mama?"

Smiling gently, Frigga adjusted Loki in her arms so that Thor could get a better look at his new brother. "His name is Loki, little one," she said fondly. "He is to be your new brother."

Thor's eyes lit up in wonder at this. Taking his thumb from his mouth, he stood up on his tiptoes, reaching out to rest one plump hand on the blanket wrapped around the baby. Loki stared at Thor with equal interest, blinking slowly. As the two boys stared at one another, Loki's quiet whimpers of hunger began to die down somewhat.

"He's awful little," Thor said after several moments of silence, wrinkling his nose.

Frigga laughed merrily, kissing the top of Loki's head as she looked down at Thor. "You were once this small, my sweet prince," she replied.

Thor's eyes widened in shock at this idea and he hastily shook his head in denial. "No! Was not," he retorted loudly. "M'a big boy! Warrior like Papa!"

Loki didn't seem pleased with how loud Thor's voice had become, scrunching his face up in protest. A thin wail burst from his lips as his hunger, combined with Thor's sudden rise in volume, reminded the infant of how upset he really was. Thor looked shocked by the sound coming from his new brother and hastily stepped back as Frigga stood up, holding the babe close to her chest.

"Shh…" Frigga soothed tenderly, rocking the little boy with a smile. "The wet-nurse will be here soon, little prince."

Loki's wails once more became hungry whimpers as he continued to be rocked in Frigga's arms, reaching up with a tiny hand to clutch at the neckline of her gown. Smiling softly at the tired baby in her arms, Frigga reached out with one hand to pet Thor's golden hair.

"Did I hurt da baby?" Thor asked in a weak voice, looking up at his mother with a frown, his blue eyes wide.

"Oh, no my sweet," Frigga murmured gently, petting his hair more. "He is just very hungry, and I can't feed him myself."

"I take it that is where I come in, my lady?" a feminine voice said with amusement from behind Frigga.  
Smiling as she turned to look at the young wet-nurse, Frigga nodded her approval. "Eira," she greeted with a smile. "Yes, that is where you come in." Adjusting Loki in her arms, she moved towards the younger woman. "You will be tending to him until he is old enough to be weaned. I trust this will not be a problem for you?"

Eira smiled back. "That should not be any problem at all, my queen," she said, moving her blonde curls away as she unclasped the sleeve of her gown and took Loki in her arms, allowing the infant to nuzzle against her breast and begin nursing. "He has not been fed in some time," she mused in mild disapproval. 

"Unfortunately," Frigga agreed, sighing heavily. "But he should be fine once he begins to feed regularly."

As she continued to feed the tiny Jotun, Eira nodded her agreement with her queen. "That should be no trouble at all," she murmured. "Do you wish me to move into the royal nursery to make it easier on you?"

"That would be greatly appreciated, yes," Frigga laughed lightly. "If that is not too much trouble for you."

"Well, since my little one is nearly old enough to be weaned, it should not be too difficult for me," Eira replied, smiling. "And this little one seems to be such a sweet lad, I do not mind the work."

Thor listened to the two adults with a frown, sucking on his thumb again. "M'a sweet lad, _too_ ," he insisted with a pout.

Laughing lightly, Frigga knelt to pull her son into her arms, kissing his forehead fondly. "Yes, you certainly are," she told him. "And you are my sweet lad, and always will be." This seemed to please her son, as he snuggled against her without any further complaining. Scooping up the small prince, Frigga smiled slightly at Eira and nodded to her. "If you would be so good as to follow me, we will take these two to the nursery."

Eira nodded, still nursing Loki with a low chuckle. "This one has an appetite to rival my own son," she chuckled. "Ah! There we are," she added when Loki finally finished, yawning and fussing slightly.

As Eira adjusted her sleeve again and rested the infant against her shoulder, lightly rubbing his back, Frigga held Thor close and led them through the halls of the palace. It had been far too long since there had been a small infant in the royal family, Frigga mused to herself. Thor had grown very quickly, even for an Aesir child, and Frigga had not thought she would have another baby. Loki was, in a very strange way, a miracle child. Thinking of it in that manner, Frigga felt almost guilty for her momentary resentment towards Loki for the horrible coincidence of who sired him.

"It is rather fortunate that we have not yet removed Thor's old bassinet," Frigga commented idly as they entered the nursery.

"Too small for _me_ ," Thor piped up with a beaming grin.

"Yes, my sweet lad," Frigga laughed, kissing his cheek softly. "Much too small for you."

Eira looked vastly amused as she knelt beside the intricately carved bassinet, gently lowering the now-sleepy Loki into it. The poor babe fussed for a moment at being so rudely put down, his fat legs kicking weakly as he made little whimpering sounds before settling down. Now that he was no longer hungry and fighting his exhaustion, Frigga noticed what a handsome baby he truly was. In this Aesir form, his skin was pale, but not to the point of being sallow or sickly, and he had a generous amount of black hair that was already showing a tendency to curl around his forehead. While he was still very tiny by Jotun standards, for an Aesir baby he looked fairly healthy. His arms and legs already had slight rolls to them, though that was true of most infants, and with proper feeding and care, he would no doubt grow to be a very handsome and healthy young man.

"He will need feeding again in another two or so hours, Majesty," Eira murmured as she tucked blankets around Loki. "I will remain in here and see to his care myself, if that is all right?"

"I appreciate your offer, Eira," Frigga said with a slight smile. "Do you mind if I leave Thor with you as well?"

"Not at all," Eira laughed, smiling at Thor. "He is also a sweet, well-behaved lad."

Thor looked immensely pleased with the compliment and wriggled free of his mother's hold, wandering to stand beside his new brother. A look of affection crossed the small prince's face as he leaned over the edge of the bassinet. Perhaps, Frigga thought to herself, Thor would be able to love and support this Jotun child as his own brother. If he could, then there might be hope for Loki's life on Asgard.


	3. Three Years Later

"T'or!" the reedy voice of Loki Odinson pierced the air of the palace of Asgard. "T'or, no' so fas'!"

"You can't catch me, Loki!" Thor laughed merrily, rushing through the halls ahead of his brother. "I'm faster than you!"

"No' fair!" Loki whined as he trotted after his brother, his short legs churning with effort. "T'or, stoppit!"

Frigga smiled to herself as she watched her two sons rush through the halls of the palace. Nearly three years had passed since Loki was first brought to Frigga as a small, underfed and abandoned infant. In that time, Thor had become devoted to his brother. While he did not remember that his mother had not given birth to the boy he now doted on, that did not matter to Thor. Anyone who thought to taunt his brother about anything would get a very sound scolding and possibly a thrashing from the young Crown Prince of Asgard. 

Thankfully, Loki had been accepted as the second son of Odin and Frigga when he was displayed before all of Asgard when he had grown healthier. Eira had grown quite fond of her young charge in the time she tended him as his wet-nurse, and would often praise his good nature to any who would listen. Thor had also been quick to praise his new brother whenever someone would ask him about the smaller boy. 

Loki, as he grew older, had become just as devoted to his brother as the elder prince was to him. When he took his first shaky steps, Frigga was delighted to see the young Jotun boy waddle uneasily towards his brother. In those moments, when Loki fell after his first wavering steps and began to fuss, Thor had rushed over and hugged the smaller boy close, praising him and petting his fine, dark hair to soothe his confusion at suddenly being on the hard ground. Frigga, watching her two sons, had felt her heart swell with love and joy at the sight. As a mother, the greatest thing she could hope for was that her sons would care so deeply for one another. 

Time had been kind to her two boys in the few short years that they had been together, and Frigga was ever grateful for that. Loki continued to grow strong and healthy, becoming a much larger boy than his small size as an infant had indicated he would be. Already he was nearly as tall as his elder brother, though Thor was a good three years his senior. Sadly, his strength would never be quite a match for Thor's, though he often tried to prove that he could be. He longed to be as good as Thor in all activities that the older prince excelled at, but already it was clear that he was not destined to be an active or powerful fighter. Frigga did her best to ease his frustrations over this fact, but Loki still did all that he could to prove he was as good as his brother.

"They are very active boys, my queen," Odin commented idly, stepping forward to stand beside his wife. "Do I have you to thank for their rowdiness?"

Frigga scoffed lightly, smirking over her shoulder at her husband. Even after three years, seeing only one of her husband's crystalline eyes was something of a shock to her. Reaching up, she lightly traced her fingers over the hard metal surface of the eye patch he now wore where his second eye had once been.

"If you have anyone to thank for having a future berserker for an heir, my lord," she replied, teasingly emphasizing the title, "then it is yourself. After all, Thor's dearest wish is to become a warrior of great prowess, much like his father. And Loki will follow Thor into the very edges of the Nine Realms if Thor should ask it of him."

Odin chuckled low in his throat, taking his wife's hand in his and lightly kissing her fingertips. Moments like this, where the two of them were able to speak to one another so freely and with such playful devotion came much more rarely as the days passed and their sons grew older. He missed the days when they could flirt as easily as any common couple in Asgard; he missed the times they had spent with one another, their banter free and seemingly acidic. It had been his wife's wicked wit and sharp tongue that had first won Odin's heart, after all.

"Then I regret nothing of my influence on our sons," Odin chuckled low in his throat. "If it has made them both that much stronger, then I will never regret encouraging them."

"Why am I not surprised by that?" Frigga sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes with a slight smile. "You always did enjoy tormenting me in such matters."

"It is not my fault that you are so easily tormented, my queen."

"Mamaaaaaa!" Loki whined as he padded over to stand before Frigga, his lower lip sticking out almost comically in a pout. "T'or won' lemme catch him."

"Oh dear, that terrible boy," Frigga said with a smile, kneeling to wrap her arms around her second son. "Do you want me to punish him severely for being so naughty to you?"

Already so mature in many ways, Loki remained a small child in how much he depended on Frigga. Never was that more clear than in moments like this, when he came to his mother with his child's woes and expected her to fix them with a single word to those around them. If anyone were to ask Loki if his mother had any failings, he would answer very firmly in the negative. Knowing this about her son filled Frigga's heart with warmth as she pressed soft kisses against his fine hair.

"No, Mama…" Loki murmured, snuggling against his mother's shoulder, seeking the warmth that he never seemed able to provide for himself. "Bu'…can you tell him ta be nicer?"

"Of course, my sweet prince," Frigga replied fondly, covering her son's face with kisses. "No more tears, now?"

Loki wrinkled his nose at his mother, hastily wiping his cheeks to check that there were no tears in evidence. "Boys don' _cry_ , Mama," he told her with all the certainty of a small child. "Ev'rybody knows _dat_."

"Oh yes, of course," Frigga nodded sagely, doing her best to hide her smile and not insult her son's delicate sensibilities. "How could I forget such a universal truth?"

"Wha's a un'vers'l truth?" Loki demanded, his tongue stumbling over the strange and long word.

"Something that everyone knows, my sweet," Frigga laughed, kissing his forehead. "Now, my King," she added, turning to look at Odin, "have you ever seen such a fine example of a strong young lad?"

"Oh, never, my queen," Odin replied with a smile. "Both our sons are strong and fine examples of our people, but none are so strong in heart as our Loki."

A dark blush of delight rushed over Loki's face as he buried his face against his mother's neck, giggling happily. While he already knew that Thor was the heir to Odin's throne, Loki's longing for recognition had already become something that, while he might not quite recognize what it was, he still felt with all his tiny frame. Frigga hated to see either of her sons pained by anything for long, and so she had taken it upon herself to do everything she could to ease her youngest son's feelings of inadequacy. Odin did not quite understand it to the same level that Frigga did, but his affection for the small boy was as genuine as the love he felt for his true son.

"A very brave young man, indeed," Odin continued with a chuckle. "Now, where is your brother, Loki?"

Shrugging in his mother's arms, Loki looked up at Odin with large green eyes. "He wouldn' lemme catch him," he said, wrinkling his nose. "Prob'ly wi' the other boys, though."

"Oh dear," Frigga tutted lightly, chuckling. "How dare he play with anyone else?"

Loki nodded emphatically, once more pouting comically as he snuggled closer against his mother's chest. "Cause he's silly tha' way," he muttered with conviction.

"All boys are silly in their own ways, my prince," Frigga murmured, hugging her son tightly and smiling against his hair. "Even you, though you are by far one of the most intelligent boys I have ever known."

Smiling fondly at her son, Frigga slowly stood up, still cradling the small boy in her arms. While he was nearly as tall as his brother already, Loki was still a very thin and compact child, making it easy for him to be held. No doubt he would be small enough for her to carry him for several more years. Honestly, the thought of her little son growing too large for her arms to be able to support him filled Frigga with a sense of dread.

"Then it seems that I shall have to find our other son on my own," Odin chuckled, lightly tapping Loki's chin with a slight smile and giving his wife a chaste kiss. "I shall see you tonight at dinner?"

"You shall," Frigga replied, reaching up to touch her husband's cheek. "Unless you find your kingly duties distract you from the love of your family."

Odin growled mockingly, his eyes narrowed in false irritation. "You had best watch your tongue around your king and husband, wench," he snorted, kissing her forehead before turning away to make his way through the palace halls.

"Papa's awful gwumpy," Loki mumbled against Frigga's shoulder, wrapping his arms around her neck and burrowing closer against her.

"Your father is always rather irritable," Frigga chuckled. "But much of the time, he acts far angrier than he truly is. Apparently he thinks it makes people respect him more."

Loki's nose wrinkled in thought as he tried to process this new and rather strange idea, looking up at his mother and shaking his head slowly. "Dat's jus' _silly_ , Mama," he declared firmly. "Ev'rybody likes Papa 'cause he's brave, not 'cause he's a grump."

"And that, my sweet prince," Frigga murmured, kissing her son's cheek lovingly, "is why you are such a wise child."

A beaming smile lit up Loki's pale face as he looked up at his mother. "Wiser den T'or?" he asked shyly.

"In some ways," Frigga reassured him, smiling fondly. "You and Thor will always be as different as night and day, my sweet. You are far more witty and cunning, and Thor will perhaps be a far greater warrior, but that does not mean I love either one of you more than the other. Do you understand that?"

The small boy, still so young and yet so wise, slowly chewed on his lower lip as he thought this over. After a moment of careful consideration, he looked up at his mother with a beaming smile. "Yes, Mama," he assured her, leaning up to give her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "You loves _ev'rybody_. Even when dey're silly boys like T'or."

A merry laugh burst forth from Frigga's lips as she hugged Loki tightly against her chest, showering his face with kisses. Even while he was such a tiny boy, he could lighten her day so easily. Both her sons could, of course, just in different manners. Thor would bring her joy in the way he would bring her small animals he had caught to make his new pets, or the latest lessons he had learned. Loki, on the other hand, would amuse her with his childish certainty and wit, already so sharp and impressive. If not with his wit, he would make her laugh or smile in the way he depended on her so entirely. While Thor did depend on her to a degree, he was becoming very self-reliant already, and he was not yet older than five years. Of course, Thor had always been the most independent of her sons, though her sweet Loki would no doubt become more so as he grew older.

"You are my sweet prince," Frigga whispered to Loki, meeting his green gaze with a smile. "And you always will be. Both you and your brother are the light of my life."

"Now you jus' bein' silly, Mama," Loki giggled, kissing her cheek again. "T'or an' me won' always be here. We're gonna go on 'ventures when we're bigger."

"Of course," Frigga smiled, hugging her son close. "How could I possibly forget? Come, my little adventurer," she continued, spinning him lightly. "We shall go prepare ourselves for dinner with your father and brother."

"Do I gotta have a bath?" Loki asked, huffing. "M'always cleaner den T'or is."

"No bath today," Frigga assured him with a chuckle. 

If she could take this moment and make it eternal, Frigga would do so in a heartbeat.


	4. A Trickster Son

"Ack! No! I don't wanna get cleaned up!"

Frigga grunted with effort as she tried to wrestle her eldest son towards his hot bath. Thor was covered in mud from head to toe, almost every inch of him completely filthy. Loki, on the other hand, stood in the doorway of the bathroom with hardly any mud on his entire body. There were times when Frigga wondered how it was that Loki managed to be such a cleanly child when he spent nearly every waking moment in Thor's company.

"You are not going before anyone looking like some creature from the bottom of a bog!" Frigga declared firmly, finally overpowering her young son. "Crown Princes are supposed to be clean and presentable during meals and important events."

"Then make Loki Crown Prince!" Thor bellowed, a trait he had regrettably inherited from his father. "I don't want to be a clean boy!"

Behind them both, young Loki had to cover his mouth to stifle the snicker that threatened to escape him at Thor's declaration. Frigga rolled her eyes as she finally managed to strip off Thor's filthy clothing, depositing him in the bath without any further ceremony.

"Loki is a clean boy because he enjoys it," Frigga informed Thor, tapping him on his dirty nose. "And if you continue like this, your father will be the one who bathes you, instead of me."

While it was an empty threat on her part, Thor could not know that. Nor did he realize that his father had far more important worries than whether or not his son bathed regularly. The thought of Odin Allfather having to supervise his bathing sobered the young prince much better than any other threat Frigga could have made, and frankly that was all she needed. Biting his lip and sinking lower in the water, Thor nodded his understanding meekly. Relieved that she no longer had to battle with her ever-growing son, Frigga sighed slightly and gathered up Thor's dirty clothes, turning to examine Loki.

"Am I going to have difficulty cleaning _you_?" she asked with an arch of her eyebrow.

Loki's green eyes glittered with suppressed mirth as he gave his mother his most innocent face. At nearly seven years of age, he was showing quite a talent for mischief, though he also was aware of the manipulative power he held over his mother. Of course, Frigga did her best to not encourage her youngest son _too_ far. Unfortunately that was much easier said than done, given her son's talent for composing his features into a mask of perfect innocence and flattering his mother to get himself out of trouble.

"I never fight baths, Mama," the small boy informed her sweetly. "You know that."

After seven years of living among the Aesir, Loki was still a very tall boy for his age, though he had lost much of the roundness of his infancy. His face was slowly becoming long and sharply featured, his black hair still having a tendency to curl if it was not slicked back carefully. His hands, once awkward and stubby like those of all small children, were becoming slender and dexterous. Unlike many of his actual race, he would never become a powerfully built man, which was no doubt because of his small size for a Jotun as an infant. Next to Thor and the other Aesir children, Loki was slight of built and looked very delicate, though he was still very strong compared to mortals.

"You are quite right," Frigga agreed with a smile, kneeling to inspect her son's appearance. "Well, I do not think you are in need of as much cleaning as your brother," she finally decided. "But I will still have to get you changed and scrubbed up."

"Yes, Mama," Loki said with a grin. 

Arching an eyebrow at her son, Frigga stood and turned to ensure that Thor was at least pretending to wash himself off. When he saw his mother examining him, Thor hastily began scrubbing himself clean. Satisfied with this, she scooped up Loki and carried him to the second tub of hot water, tugging off his clothing before setting him in the water. Loki sighed in satisfaction as he settled in the hot water, beaming up at his mother as she began wiping the mud off of his face and hands.

"Do I even _want_ to know what the two of you were up to?" she asked Loki, arching an eyebrow at him.

Once more his face became a mask of innocence as he met his mother's gaze, his eyes dancing merrily. Frigga heaved a sigh as she began soaking Loki's hair, gently covering his eyes with her hand so that water didn't get into them.

"What were you two doing?" she asked gently.

"Thor wanted to teach me to ride a horse on my own," Loki replied sweetly, squirming away from Frigga's hand and holding out the soap to her so she could begin washing his hair. "So I said we should go to the stables an' try and ride one of the big horses."

Well, that certainly explained the smell of horse that clung to their dirty clothes. What it did _not_ explain was how Thor had gotten so filthy while Loki had barely a speck of dirt on him. Giving her younger son a pointed look, Frigga began to rinse the soap out of his hair.

"And what happened after that?" she demanded, doing her best to keep her tone even and kind.

"I got on Papa's charger!" Thor piped up from the other bath before ducking under the water to wash his matted hair.

Frigga stifled a groan at this revelation, giving the top of Thor's head a scolding look as she finished cleaning Loki and turned her attention to her eldest son. "What made you think that you were large enough to control your father's war horse, dear heart?" she asked, moving her hands through Thor's thick mane of golden hair to ease the worst of the mud out of it.

"Well…" Thor trailed off sheepishly, his eyes lowered so he could not meet his mother's gaze. "Loki said a true warrior could ride any horse, so I wanted to prove that I was a true warrior."

Sighing dramatically, Frigga looked to the ceiling of the bathroom, silently praying for the strength to _not_ scold her sons until they both cried. Her fingers continued to gently ease tangles and bits of mud out of Thor's hair as she finally looked at her two sons again. Thor at least looked penitent and aware of how foolish his actions had been. Loki on the other hand did not seem at all troubled by this turn of events as he pushed himself back and forth in his tub, creating waves in the water.

"Well," she said slowly, giving both her son's a very serious look. "I hope you learned your lesson from this, Thor."

"Yes, Mama," he said meekly, looking up at her with a slight smile. "Wait till I'm bigger?"

"Something like that," Frigga chuckled wryly, slowly running soap through his thick hair. "And Loki, the same thing goes for you."

"I didn't get messy," Loki said blandly, still splashing back and forth in the water.

"No, but if the stable hands had not been able to control your father's horse in time, you both could have been seriously hurt," Frigga said, her tone serious and no laughter in her voice anymore.

Thor hung his head, clearly ashamed of himself, and Loki managed to stop himself from splashing anymore. Giving both of them a serious look, Frigga sighed heavily as she began rinsing Thor's hair.

"You are both my sweet boys," she told them sincerely. "If anything hurt either of you, I would never be able to forgive myself."

"But you wouldn't have done anything to hurt us, Mama," Loki protested, his eyes suddenly serious as he watched his mother.

"That does not mean I would not feel responsible," Frigga murmured. "I am your mother, and therefore I am responsible for all the mistakes you make until you are a little older, Loki."

Considering this carefully for several moments, Loki was silent as Frigga finished cleaning Thor off and wrapped him in a fluffy towel. Turning to take Loki out of the bath, Frigga was surprised when her small son hugged her tightly as she wrapped him up in a towel. Pressing his wet face against her shoulder, Loki dug his fingers into her back and shivered.

"I'm sorry, Mama," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Hugging her son back tightly, Frigga kissed his wet hair and began drying him off with a slight smile. "I know that you did not mean to," she reassured him tenderly. "But now you know that such actions will not only scare me, but also put both of you in potential danger."

Loki nodded against her shoulder, smiling weakly up at his mother as she began dressing him. "Yes, Mama," he said sincerely.

"Now," Frigga said, smiling at them both. "You two finish getting dressed, and try to stay clean for the rest of the day. Do you think that is manageable?"

****************

"…Do I want to know how you got filthy _this_ time?" Frigga asked with a tired sigh, rubbing her forehead as she felt a headache starting up behind her eyes.

Loki and Thor both looked remarkably pleased with themselves, their faces and clothing covered in dirt and their hair mussed and tangled. Thor had a split lip, and Loki's shirt was torn in at least three different places. Unless this story involved Frost Giants, Frigga was certain this was another of Loki's little tricks that had gone not quite according to plan.

"We defeated Fandral and Volstagg in most noble combat, Mother!" Thor grinned, not seeming to notice the pain that his split lip must have been giving him.

Fandral and Volstagg? She knew that Volstagg was a few years Thor's senior, but he was a nice enough boy. As far as Frigga was aware, he had no reason to fight with either Thor or Loki. Fandral, on the other hand, was a very arrogant child in his own way, between Loki and Thor in age. While he was certainly not the sort who would be foolish enough to _start_ a fight with the two princes, it was entirely likely that he would have said something that would have encouraged Thor to "battle" against the young boy in defense of his brother's honor.

"And was Sif anywhere near this entire fiasco?" Frigga asked, arching an eyebrow at her two sons.

Loki made a face at the mention of the girl, as though the idea of a female being anywhere near a battle of honor among the boys was repulsive to him. Stifling a smile at the look on her son's face, Frigga bit her lip as she watched her sons closely.

"I think that Sif was nearby," Thor said slowly. "Though I don't know for certain."

At least she could trust that her eldest son would be honest about that much. If neither of her sons told her the rest of what happened between them and the other boys, she could ask Sif to tell her the entire truth. 

"Well," she said with a wry smile. "I think that the two of you need to get cleaned up, and--"

Her voice faded as she looked at Loki in wonder. She could have sworn that he had been in possession of a bruise just under his jaw a moment ago, and now it was gone. Standing slowly, Frigga moved towards her younger son and gently tilted his head, examining his face.

"Were you not more bruised than this?" she asked, meeting Loki's green gaze.

Loki managed to look surprised at this question, reaching up to touch the spot where the bruise had been a moment before. "I thought I was, Mother," he admitted. "But…I thought I'd like it to go away."

Frigga's blood ran cold for a moment as she looked down at Loki. His eyes were full of confusion and innocent wonderment, and she hated to think that she might have to take that away from him. Jotuns such as Loki were more likely than Aesir to have a taste for magic, after all, and it could be that his natural talents for that power were finally surfacing. 

That was not a very encouraging thought for Frigga. If Loki began to develop magic, then she and Odin would have to think very carefully about how they should best handle this situation. Would they have to tell Loki the truth of his birth? If they did tell him, would the poor lad accept it? Would he accept _them_? Or would he simply resent them and become a greater enemy than Laufey had been before?

"Thor," Frigga said quietly. "Go and clean yourself up. Loki and I must speak with Odin."

Fear filled Loki's eyes for a moment as he looked up at his mother before he managed to control his expression. Frigga's heart ached to see her son afraid of his own father, even if only for a moment. Resting a hand on her son's shoulder, she smiled encouragingly at him and slowly led him along the halls. 

"Why must I go speak with Father?" Loki asked in a low voice, clearly trying to sound brave.

"It is nothing to be afraid of, my sweet," Frigga reassured him, smiling down at him. "I simply think that your sudden ability to hide bruises from sight should be noted, and if it is a sign of things to come, it should also be trained."

Relief flooded Loki's face before he once more managed to look composed and collected. At least she had not told too great of a lie, Frigga thought to herself with a heavy sigh. If Odin felt the need to tell Loki now of his true heritage, then she could only hope that her sweet boy did not hate them too deeply for how long they had withheld this knowledge from him.

Thankfully Odin was alone in his great study, looking over missives from various other rulers within the Nine Realms. He looked up slowly when Frigga knocked on the door, his one remaining eye lighting up at the sight of his wife and youngest son.

"And to what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked, arching an eyebrow at the sight of how unkempt Loki appeared.

"It would seem that our young trickster has developed a talent for illusion without our knowledge," Frigga said slowly. "Without his own knowledge, apparently."

Odin's one good eye tightened slightly along with his jaw as he looked from Frigga to Loki and back again. His hand shook ever so slightly as he began to lower the letter to the desk in front of him. "I see," he said slowly. "And what led to the discovery of this hidden talent?"

"A scuffle between boys that resulted in bruises that were then hidden," Frigga answered him calmly, her hands resting on top of Loki's shoulders. Her fingers squeezed gently as she ran her thumb over his shoulder blades, willing her husband to see her worries for their little boy.

"Ah," Odin said slowly, resting his hand on top of the letter he had just placed upon the desk. "I see," he murmured. "That does make sense, of course. Boys will be boys."

"So I have always said," Frigga agreed, trying to read her husband's emotions and thoughts in his face. Unfortunately, since he had lost his eye, Odin had become even harder to read than ever before. "What would you wish to be done about our son's budding talent, my king?" she asked after several moments of silence.

"I think it would be best if we had such a promising talent trained, naturally," Odin said slowly, his one blue eye meeting Frigga's gaze evenly. "No doubt you will find a worthy teacher for our son, my lady," he added with a slight twitch of his lips.

Frigga's fingers dug into Loki's shoulder for a moment as she looked at her husband, attempting to understand what he was saying to her. Her expression must have been very torn as she met her husband's eye, wanting to know what if she should also tell their son the truth of who and what he was, but unable to give voice to the question. There was no way she could ask, though; not with Loki there.

"We shall speak more of this later, Frigga," Odin said firmly. "When we have more time."

Nodding her understanding, Frigga turned Loki to face her, smiling down at her son and brushing his hair away from his face. "Why don't you run along and find Thor," she murmured softly. "Go along and get cleaned up with him."

Loki nodded up at his mother, his expression both relieved and excited by the thought of learning a skill not even Thor could boast of. "Yes, Mother," he said with a smile, hugging her tightly around her waist before rushing out of the room to find his brother.

"I should have known you would insist on having a straight answer before you gave me peace," Odin grumbled, running a hand through his hair. "Why did I have to wed such a determined and stubborn woman?"

"For some reason you thought she was a woman who would suit you as your queen," Frigga retorted with a slight smile. "Allfather," she added, her expression becoming serious. "Odin. Our son will begin asking questions as he grows older. Questions about why he does not resemble either of us, about why he has magic while no one else in our family does."

Odin sighed, lightly drumming his fingers against the top of his desk. "Frigga," he said slowly. "If we tell him now, what would happen? Our son would hate himself and us."

"And that potential for bitterness will fade with time?" Frigga retorted, moving to stand beside her husband, resting her hands on his shoulders. "Loki is not like you or I, my love," she murmured softly. "He is ours in spirit, but not in blood, and you know more than anyone else that those of Jotun blood are prone to dangerous shows of…passion."

Odin sighed heavily, his shoulders suddenly sagging under her hands. For the first time in centuries, Frigga remembered how old she and her husband truly were.

"I wish that there were some other way," Odin sighed heavily. "But unfortunately, I can see no alternative."

Wrapping her arms around her husband's shoulders from behind, Frigga pressed a gentle kiss against her husband's temple. "We will find a way to make this work, my love," she said firmly. "We have risen above worse challenges in the past, and we will continue to do so in the future. You are the Allfather, and I will obey your commands, if that is what you wish. But I also want you to know that, should I ever think it right to tell Loki the truth, I will do so, regardless of your commands."

Reaching up to rest his hand over his wife's, Odin sighed again, squeezing her fingers fondly and lovingly. "Damn your independent nature, woman," he groused half-heartedly. "What am I to do with such a strong-willed wife?"

"What you already do, my love," Frigga retorted fondly. "Love me wholeheartedly and listen to my wise council."

"Aye," Odin agreed with a scoff. "Sounds like us, does it not. Now get on with you, wench. I've work to tend to."

Pressing one more kiss against her husband's temple, Frigga chuckled low in her throat and stood up, leaving him to his work.


End file.
